


Gold

by blissey



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Non-Explicit Sex, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Stream of Consciousness, Underage Drinking, like okay. robbie has like one beer but i'm tagging it just in case
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-28
Updated: 2017-05-28
Packaged: 2018-11-05 18:58:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11019546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blissey/pseuds/blissey
Summary: On your eighteenth birthday, you get your Name. The Name bleeds onto your skin in swirls of silver, forming out that of your soulmate. It turns gold when you meet each other, or if you know each other, when you meet while both have your Name.When Roberto Reyes turns eighteen, the name 'Daisy Johnson' shimmers on his wrist and he goes about his day. Elena bounds up to him at school, her hair braided into two messy sections. "Anyone we know?" She asks in Spanish, grabbing his wrist and examining it.Robbie shakes his head. He knows the school is waiting with baited breath for him to reveal his Name, as he's a year older than the rest of his class. He doesn't, and life goes on.





	Gold

On your eighteenth birthday, you get your Name. The Name bleeds onto your skin in swirls of silver, forming out that of your soulmate. It turns gold when you meet each other, or if you know each other, when you meet while both have your Name.

When Roberto Reyes turns eighteen, the name 'Daisy Johnson' shimmers on his wrist and he goes about his day. Elena bounds up to him at school, her hair braided into two messy sections. "Anyone we know?" She asks in Spanish, grabbing his wrist and examining it. 

Robbie shakes his head. He knows the school is waiting with baited breath for him to reveal his Name, as he's a year older than the rest of his class. He doesn't, and life goes on.

Eli gets arrested, Gabe gets shot, bills shoot through the roof. Robbie thinks desperately about dropping out of high school. Mr. Coulson runs into Gabe and him, inviting them over for dinner. He's Robbie's favourite teacher, turning history from a jumble of English words Robbie only half-knows into a portrait of human nature, touching on things each student likes, like Henry Ford for Robbie and Marie Curie for that Simmons girl and espionage for his daughter, Skye. She's a free spirit, Robbie thinks, all conspiracy theories and protest signs and day-old coffee. He catches her smoking one day in his favourite spot, and nods. She nods back.

Dinner with Mr. Coulson is too much and not enough. Gabe seems to get along famously with the man named Mack who is grilling up a storm - Mrs. May (Coulson? May-Coulson? Coulson-May?) is quiet in a dangerous way, assessing everything and storing it away for a time of need. She stares Robbie down before glaring at his shoes - he jumps, taking them off and placing them in the cubby.

Skye bounces in, her boyfriend in tow, some tall and brooding guy who makes Robbie want to deck him and grab Gabe and scram. Her hair is long and flirty, complete with loose curls and ruddy cheeks. The other Coulson kid, Leo Fitz-Coulson, is sitting with Mack and Gabe, talking about science or something else genius-level that Robbie can't comprehend.

It becomes a normal thing - going over to the Coulson house for dinner. They help, taking the stress of providing and raising Gabe off of Robbie's shoulders. Mack and Fitz will hang out with Gabe if Robbie has to work extra hours - Fitz and Gabe bond over being broken, but Mack gives them a stern talk about how they are the most whole people he's ever met. Robbie thinks he could live here, with these people.

Elena graduates high school; Robbie, Elena, and Joey celebrate her birthday afterwards, cheering when her Name comes in. Alphonso Mackenzie. It sounds familiar.

Elena goes off to college, staying in town but in a fancy dorm Robbie can't stomach.

Mr. Coulson throws a big pool party in honor of another school year. Skye's boyfriend doesn't show up, and she doesn't want to talk about it. That Simmons girl, Fitz's best friend, tells Robbie he turned out to be in the KKK. Jesus Christ. Holy mother above. Robbie let Gabe, a disabled, autistic, Mexicano boy be in the same room as him? Fuck.

A guy named Trip starts frequenting the garage Robbie works at, and they become fast friends. Turns out Skye knew him too. Small world. He likes Skye a little too much, he supposes.

School begins anew, with a new transfer student that Skye latches onto and brings into their little circle. That's what it is, Roberto supposes, a circle of friends. He and Simmons and Fitz and Joey and Trip and Skye. Robbie's never had friends before, too worried about Gabe or Eli to let himself get distracted by being a teenager. He asks Skye one night while they are sharing a cig, "is is weird I'm almost nineteen and in high school?"

She laughs, "no way."

The new guy, Lincoln, is skittish and smart, anxiously taking a while to warm up to everyone. The Thanksgiving Coulson dinner hosts two of Mack's friends, college seniors Bobbi and Lance. Robbie brings Elena, who falls in love with the family on sight.

When Mack and Elena make eye contact, the world stops. He stands, all six foot six or whatever, and she stomps on Robbie's foot for not telling her sooner. Gabe is confused, asking anxiously what's going on.

Elena rips off her cuff, showing her Name: Alphonso Mackenzie. It shines gold in the LA sunlight.

They're spending the night - he finds Skye on the porch, smoking. She hands it to him and he takes a drag.

"Do you have one?" She asks. "A soulmate."

"Yeah," says Robbie. "Don't much care about it. Name sounds like a gringa."

Skye barks out a laugh, "how horrible. What if she doesn't like mole?"

"Then the universe got it wrong," Robbie says, "Gabe, mole, and I. The holy trinity."

She stays quiet, crushing the butt under her boot.

"Do you want one?"

She shrugs, "dunno. Seems nice on the surface, but I like feeling free."

Robbie exhaled. "I know what you mean."

Mr. Coulson helps Robbie pass his midterms. It's nice, sitting in a library with someone who legitimately wants to help him and who bought him expensive fancy white people coffee and an almond pastry that kinda tastes like dulce de leche. Elena and Mack have gone on four dates in five weeks. They are infatuated and Robbie is sick.

What will his soulmate be like? His Name suggests some suburban all-American white chick with a trust fund and a stable nuclear family. Was she looking at her wrist, disgusted by the name 'Roberto Reyes?' He tries to imagine his perfect girl: a little gritty and rough but with a free, light spirit, who loved the beach and riding in his car with him and who got along with Gabe and who had a messy bob of hair and tanned skin and fuck he is thinking of Skye.

She looks at Lincoln, so pure and smart and not like Robbie, and she smiles. Robbie shrinks. He can't fucking wait to meet Daisy Johnson and to get over his schoolboy crush on Skye.

Skye leaves for the winter break. Her birth parents got in contact with her, and Mr. Coulson takes her to meet them. Mrs. May organizes a potluck for Christmas and encourages everyone to bring food from their culture or childhood. Robbie brings tamales and Mrs. May makes rice cakes and sweet red beans and dumplings. Elena and Mack bring arroz con leche and Simmons brings a bunch of bland looking English food. 

It's great; Fitz accidentally eats the hoja de maiz and Elena cries laughing. Gabe falls in love with red beans and Robbie might love these people, he thinks.

Skye gets back sullen and dour, locking herself in her room and crying softly so no one but Robbie can hear her (from his smoking perch). He ushers the smog out the window, bashful.

They dance around it. She never talks and he doesn't ask.

Fitz turns eighteen, and to Robbie's surprise, he comes to Robbie for help. "It's Jemma."

Robbie snorts, "no shit."

They plan a big ornate Valentine's Day date, and Jemma turns eighteen the night before. Trip and Robbie serenade Jemma with a shitty love song while Fitz tells her. A match - Robbie doesn't cry, but Gabe does.

It's a freak accident - a white supremacist gang targets Lincoln's apartment building; he (the stupid asshole) gets shot trying to save others. Skye misses school for a week. Robbie understands. He understands.

When she does come back, she's cold and unforgiving. She's tired all the time, gaunt and overworked, and Robbie sees himself when he looks at her. He takes her to the beach and they sit in the Charger, silent. 

"My birth parents are both murderers."

Robbie raises an eyebrow.

"My mom lead a cult that endorsed suicide and my dad he -" she's sobbing, heaving and heavy and angry. "He killed people if they disagreed with him. Violent dissociation."

She leans into his shoulder and he lets her cry it out, offering nothing.

"My Uncle Eli pushed my mom down the stairs while she was pregnant with Gabe. He also helped orchestrate their deaths and the shooting that hurt Gabe." He says once, nursing a beer on Mr. Coulson's patio.

She nods and Robbie knows she understands.

It's late one night, raining and cold and violent, when she knocks on the apartment door. Gabe is with Fitz and Mack, building robots or some shit, and Skye knows it. She crashes into his space, angry and hungry for something and oh god -

She pushes Robbie against the wall and says "no feelings."

He nods, understanding. They are so alike.

"Fuck me."

He pounds her hard into his mattress, her black fingernails scratching down his back as she screams. It's perfect in every way and he knows it, burying his face in her beautiful neck and biting as his hips snap forward over and over and over.

She's a pristine goddess, golden and perfect, and Robbie knows he's in too deep. He doesn't care.

They share a smoke afterwards. She leaves.

School is fine. Mr. Coulson helps his with things he doesn't quite get, and Robbie doesn't feel afraid relying on someone.

Gabe is going to skip ninth grade, going from middle school to sophomore. His heart hurts in his chest, and Robbie is happy Eli is rotting away in prison. He's not forgiving Eli for what he did to them, but he likes where they've ended up. He might love it.

He and Skye orbit around each other, going to shitty diners after school and eating, then smoking and fucking and doing homework. In that order, most of the time.

Robbie knows her body - he knows that her right shoulder hurts if her arm goes straight up and he knows that she is always cold and he knows that if he kisses her waist she writhes and breathes in an ethereal way. Too far, he's in too far.

Trip comments on it, asking if anything is going on between them.

"No," Robbie rubs his wrist, "nothing at all."

He stares at his Name, silver in the morning light, while he waits for Skye. He wishes it could say Skye Coulson. Please, he begs, please. He's too far gone.

She asks about it once, after she's ridden him to oblivion. "Who's name is it?"

"Some white name," he answers, breathing heavily.

"You want to meet her?"

Roberto realizes in that moment that the jig is up. No feelings became a hell of a lot of feelings. He locks eyes with Skye and says, "not really."

She leans down and kisses him hard. Robbie dreams of his Name being Skye Coulson. He wants it. He'd kill for it. He'd die for it.

Her birthday in is April. It's a week away. She lays on his chest, into his side, and he tries not to think about it. What if it says Lincoln Campbell? What if it says Grant Ward? He'll be with her anyway, Robbie realizes, regardless. He's too far in. Not even Daisy Johnson could change his mind.

It comes.

The day of, Mr. Coulson throws a party, bringing lemonade and grilled kebabs and a jovial demeanor. Skye is quiet the whole time. He knows why. He's dreading it too.

At midnight, they're on her bed, dressed for sleep. She staring at her wrist as the silver curls in, forming shapes and letters. Robbie gets up. "Text me. I need to be alone."

She understands. She doesn't text him. 

On Sunday she comes by, mad. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Robbie starts, "what?"

Skye shoves her wrist in his face, "you asshole! You asshole. You told me that you didn't have my name."

There, in golden letters, reads Roberto Reyes.

"I don't," he says, and the universe is a cruel, cruel place. Everything stills, and Skye has the wind knocked out of her.

Skye hits him, dragging him to the floor where she hits his chest and cries, ugly and beautiful.

"Liar," she sobs, "liar."

"I don't care," Robbie says. "I'll get a cover-up tattoo. I'll shave it off. I don't care. You're the one for me."

She screams, "but I'm not! You're going to meet her and leave me! Just like my parents, just like Lincoln!"

She's crying, shuddering, and he holds her close to his chest. When he wakes up, she's gone.

She avoids him for the rest of the school year. He hates his Name. He hates it. Truly and wholly.

He writes her a letter, explaining that he doesn't care about destiny or whatever, and that she was the one for him. The end all be all. It's shredded in his locker later that week.

It's July, and Robbie sits on a bench, cigarette in his mouth. It hurts, but he deals. He hasn't taken his cuff off to look at the Name since Skye's eighteenth birthday. If he ignores it, it might fade from memory.

In August, he rams into somebody while he's getting lunch from the deli by the shop.

"Sorry," he says, keeping his eyes on the ground.

"Daisy!" Someone calls, and Robbie's world ends. No. No no no.

Roberto Reyes runs, Daisy Johnson's name burnt into his mind. He runs, not looking back, not caring. He didn't want it, didn't want some suburban prom queen on a gentrification field trip to the ghetto to be with him forever. He only wanted her.

He cries for the first time in a long, long time.

Elena and Joey comfort him, neither of them knowing what to say. They hold him when he sobs and that's enough. What a shitshow.

Robbie is strong, for Gabe. He gets promoted at the garage, making almost enough for them to have wiggle room. He's sad, he realizes. Empty.

It's September. School is starting, and Mr. Coulson ("Phil, I insist.") was holding a barbecue. The Reyes family go, and Robbie absolutely does not wear the cologne he knows Skye loves.

She's not there when they arrive, but it feels okay. He misses her, but seeing Gabe talk to Fitz and Jemma, high school seniors, now, it's almost enough. Robbie's a pro at ignoring.

It's almost sunset when it happens - Elena has goaded him into a margarita, and Phil pretends not to see. Mack splashes in the pool with Gabe, supporting him near-perfectly. He loves them, Robbie thinks.

"Daisy!" Phil calls, excited, "didn't think you were going to make it."

Robbie freezes.

There's no where to run; even if he could, Gabe would be left here. Phil seems to know Daisy, whoever she is, so he knows diving headfirst into the pool wouldn't be a long term solution. Mrs. May waves at the new guest and Robbie's heart stops - he's not ready. He's not ready.

"Wasn't going to," a throaty voice speaks, and fuck, Robbie knows that voice. That voice haunts him, heaven and hell at the same time. 

He turns slowly, making eye contact with Skye Coulson. "Skye," he breathes.

"It's Daisy."

Robbie doesn't think he has ever been so happy to be on the receiving end of a glare before.

He leaps up, grabbing her and saying "inside."

Robbie can feel her rolling her eyes, but she lets herself get man-handled. The glass door shuts behind her and he turns, staring at her.

"Daisy?" He asks, "why?"

Skye is cleaning her nails, avoiding eye contact. "Daisy Johnson is my birth-name. I started going by it after graduation."

Robbie rips his cuff off, shoving it under Skye - Daisy's nose. "The universe has a cruel sense of humor," he says finally.

Daisy looks at his Name, "no way."

"I told you," he rests his head on her shoulder. "You're the forever girl."

Daisy looks down at him, "and you're the sap who threatened to burn off his Name."

"I would have done it." He says; the room stops, even air drawing to a stop. "Even if it wasn't a weird miracle like this. I would have done it. Cut it out, burn it, tattoo over it, I don't care."

"I know," she says, and that is that.

**Author's Note:**

> My commissions are now open! [Click here](http://psylocke.co.vu/post/163229382900/writing-commissions-now-open) to see more. I'm trying to get out of a shitty home situation so help a sis out


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